


It's In The Moments

by foxelot



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxelot/pseuds/foxelot
Summary: It’s in the moments when bitten fingernails are coated in a messy layer of black polish.It’s in the moments when plaid shirts get haphazardly tied around a waist.It’s in the moments when whiskey eyes shine with dark, secret promises.





	It's In The Moments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VerdantMoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/gifts).



It’s in the moments when bitten fingernails are coated in a messy layer of black polish.

It’s in the moments when plaid shirts get haphazardly tied around a waist. 

It’s in the moments when whiskey eyes shine with dark, secret promises. 

~*~*~

To the rest of the world, Stiles is loud, annoying, human. But to Peter she’s assertive, commanding, kind of magical. To Peter she’s the bruising fingers that keep him human in the night, a force to be reckoned with, loyal to an absolute fault and _god does he wish she would stop that_. 

There had been a time, years ago now, that he’d wanted her as a wolf, craved her as a wolf, saw a fire in her that he knew could be kindled into something dangerous if stoked just right. But he didn’t want that anymore, didn’t need it, crave it, wish it. 

Because time had shaped her into something dangerous anyway. 

She was dangerous with her fierce loyalty and her sharp eyes that never missed anything. She was dangerous her harsh touches, grabbing out of panic, fear, anger. She was dangerous with her gentle kisses on foreheads, cheeks, lips. Her words were poisoned promises, enough to make Peter’s knees go weak with passion, terror, desire. 

He would never be able to understand why she’d chosen him when the world was her oyster, when she had her pick of much better men than he, but he would always be grateful for it. He would be grateful even if she one day decided she’d had enough of this damaged, broken shell that still walked the world for that was all that was left of him. He would be grateful even if she decided she wanted something more alive, something that hadn’t been burned out by time and fire. 

He’s grateful for it now as she crowds into his space, eyes bright with flames as long, quick fingers trail over his skin. It feels like the fire all over again, but this time... this time he’s not afraid of what’s to become of him. This time he welcomes it, welcomes her, welcomes the burn that builds in his chest and spreads over his body. It’s the only time he ever let’s go, gives up his itch to be in control, lends himself over to another. Because while he is stronger, faster, meaner, he knows he can’t control Stiles. Nothing can. Nothing ever will.

~*~*~

It’s in the moments when bitten fingernails scrape over bare skin.

It’s in the moments when plaid shirts fall to the ground forgotten. 

It’s in the moments when whiskey eyes capture him for the millionth time.


End file.
